


tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

by jonphaedrus



Category: Lunar (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, they might be fuckups but at least theyre fuckups together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonphaedrus/pseuds/jonphaedrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Last I checked, I wasn’t the one of us mostly-naked and cuffed in a cell.” Dyne’s voice was like iron and cut like a whip. “So don’t go trying to talk yourself onto some high and mighty pedestal.”</p><p>Ghaleon cringed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meribiaa (lividlillies)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lividlillies/gifts).



> i lov bee
> 
> so here

“Ah,” said the crumpled figure in the cell, “here comes the forgotten hero to gloat. Got your way at last, haven’t you, Dyne?” Dyne, or _Laike,_ as he insisted he be known, didn’t even bother to respond to him. He just came over and stopped just before the cell, arms crossed over his broad chest, expression unreadable. “Do you want something, Dyne?” There was an absolute defeat in Ghaleon’s words that was far more that of the man crumbled beneath the weight of his sins and ill-decisions than any sort of regret he had shown before that point.

Dyne still did not respond, but leaned against the bars of the cell. He looked much as he had that last Ghaleon had seen him—tired and worn, recovering from their last confrontation. There was a steadiness in him that Ghaleon himself lacked, now, and he seemed happy, if subdued. Ghaleon, clad in only a tunic and breeches, feet and head bare, wrists locked to his ankles, was a far cry from his own regular self.

“Why are you always like this,” Dyne said at last, sighing. He gestured, as if that took up the whole of that statement into a single word. “Why can’t you just...not. Do something stupid.”

“Last I checked, _you_ were the hotheaded one who didn’t know when to keep his hands to himself.”

“Last I checked, I wasn’t the one of us mostly-naked and cuffed in a cell.” Dyne’s voice was like iron and cut like a whip. “So don’t go trying to talk yourself onto some high and mighty pedestal.”

Ghaleon cringed.

They stayed silent for some time longer before Dyne softened slightly, shoulders slumping. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He asked at last, the corners of his mouth drawn tight. “Instead of just deciding this ridiculous course.”

“Would you have listened?” Ghaleon shot back; two could play that game. “Would you have even for a moment considered what I said? You were always too pompous and egotistical for your own damn good—“

“Oh,” Dyne turned at last, his formidable ire finally raised, “And you aren’t? Honestly, Ghaleon—“

“Don’t turn this into how you’re a damn martyr because I won’t _have_ it—“

“Stop it!” Dyne snapped, his deep voice cracking with his agitation, and Ghaleon bit down on his words so fast his teeth clicked. The other man looked deeply troubled. “You were _there,_ Ghaleon. You know what I did, and why I did it. You helped me make the damned decision in the first place. Do you know how it feels to be betrayed by your—“ and here, his angry tirade choked off against an impassable wall. His adam’s apple bobbed for a moment as he searched about to try and find the proper words, the right way to address the broken shell of a man crumpled in the cell before him. “Someone you discover that you hardly ever knew,” he settled on at last, and the pain in his voice was as sharp as poison and as hot as bile.

“The opinion is mutual,” Ghaleon settled at last, acerbic, but it was tit for tat and Dyne did not even bother to attempt denying it. He sagged slightly, and at last, turned and fumbled to unlock the cell door, then came inside like a man afraid of some ravenous carnivore. He knelt, slow and careful, before Ghaleon, and slowly unlocked the fetters around his ankles and wrists, and then sat on the cold, mildewed floor and began to massage gently the bruised rings around his wrists that had been scraped to raw tenderness by the metal. Neither man said anything for a long time, almost afraid to speak.

“So what now,” Ghaleon said at last. “Your hero’s heart gone soft? You going to lie to your protégé and just let me go when nobody is looking? Id’ve thought you knew better now than to do something that stupid.”

“No,” Dyne was assiduously ignoring him. He was good at that: he had been for years. “I wouldn’t let you out of my sight again for the world.” He was still, however, trying to rub the feeling back into Ghaleon’s battered wrists. He was too slender and breakable—they’d done more damage than he’d wanted to admit. The younger man sighed, his shoulders slumping, and after a moment longer he finally let go of the weariness that was hanging about his shoulders like lead and dropped forward to press his face to the crook of Ghaleon’s neck.

Ghaleon could do nothing to stop him, weak and exhausted. Rather than push him back, he pulled the other man tightly to him, wrapped tight in his arms, and buried his face in Dyne’s hair. He bit the inside of his lip to stave off anything as soft as _tears_.

“Why are you like this,” Dyne managed at last, hoarse. “Why are you just so damned _infuriating._ Why can I never stay mad at you.”

“It is, believe me, a mutual feeling.” After a long moment Dyne leaned back and settled once more onto his haunches. He pulled out his canteen and a handkerchief and began to wipe the grime off of Ghaleon’s face. “Why are you doing this,” he managed after a moment, spitting lint out of his mouth. “Are you making sure I have one last night as myself? Is our beloved Goddess finally ready to have me done away with?”

“We’re leaving,” Dyne replied instead. He looked pleased with himself at the pronouncement. “They’re not going to do anything with you.”

“And _why_ , pray tell?”

“Because we’re going to do things properly.” Dyne cupped his chin; smiled. “You’re coming with me. At least...” he hesitated. “That was my intention.”

“ _Where_?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere.” Dyne frowned. “You were so different, before. I want to give you the chance again. Come with me. Let’s just...go out there. And do something. Anything. We’ve come this far together. We might as well finish it all out.”

“I...” Ghaleon hesitated, and then began to hysterically laugh. “After all this time, Dyne, just—come with you, like nothing ever happened? We can’t _turn back the clock_ on this. I don’t just get to wake up tomorrow like nothing ever happened, like we never fucked up, like _I_ never—“

“So don’t,” the other man interrupted, blunt and brusque and abrupt. “I don’t want you to.” He clasped one of Ghaleon’s slim, trembling hands between his own burly ones. “I just want you.”

“You,” Ghaleon was crying and he _hated_ it. “You are a stupid, awful man, who never knew well enough to let a thing alone. You just could never stop being the hero.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

It rather was.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr and twitter @ jonphaedrus


End file.
